I Hate a Goddamn Whiner
by lilithtorch2
Summary: SPOILERS. After a difficult mission, Natasha Romanoff and James "Bucky" Barnes (post-Winter Soldier) decide to break into The Bus, oddly the only known source of alcohol in the whole S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Drunken chaos ensues. Based heavily on a Boardwalk Empire scene in which Sally Wheet decides to punch Nucky Thompson. Bucky/Natasha Winter Soldier/Black Widow


On this night, James and Natasha are raiding the alcohol in The Bus.

They aren't even supposed to be here.

This is supposed to be the base of operations for Agent Coulson and his team of rag-tag agents. Nick Fury specifically said, "Don't touch the damn Bus!"

Whatever. James and Natasha had just come back from a rough mission. They need to get wasted. Now. Strangely, for a big agency like SHIELD, this is their _only_ source of alcohol. Someone up there must really hate wine and spirits.

So they pick the lock to the wine closet. Basic stuff.

"What would you like?" She politely asks him.

He responds impatiently, "Does it even matter?"

"No." She grabs him a bottle of SHIELD's finest whiskey.

They start taking shots, challenging each other to keep pushing ahead.

Somewhere in between those shots, James starts becoming introspective. He starts blurting out random things. He can't help himself; he's been thinking about this for a long time since his memories were restored. He starts recapping his whole life as he remembers it, from being a ladies' man way back when and being Steve's best friend. And how the Soviets brainwashed him into this ruthless assassin. And how he regrets all the things he did. And how he's not sure if he can face his best friend again after everything he's done. And then there's Natasha. "You can't be with me, Nat." he concludes. "I'm not good enough. You have a good life here, with SHIELD. So do I. But you need someone better. Someone without any emotional baggage."

She quickly downs her next shot. She glares for a few minutes.

"I just hate a goddamn whiner," she finally says, and slugs him. Hard.

He rubs his face. He thinks, that broad throws a mean right hook.

Geezus.

"Geezus, Nat," he screams back drunkenly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He's about to punch her right back before he remembers,

"I'm not going to hit you."

Natasha challenges him. "I just insulted you, Bucky Barnes" (the nickname agitates him) "so you should hit me."

He hesitates.

"Come on," she grumbles, "I can take it."

With no inhibitions, James throws her a hard uppercut to the face, causing her to stumble backward, knocking back the glass on the counter. Startled, he panics for a bit, not sure what Nat's going to do next. He holds his breath and braces for impact from what happens next.

Natasha begins screaming a high-pitched battle cry and charges at him. She starts slapping him, trying to hit him. She starts waving her hands at him and trying to claw at him and scratch him. "You asshole! You asshole!"

Not even James's bionic arm can protect him from the cries of an angry woman, but what else can he do? He tries to fend her off, manages to grab her wrists and awkwardly pushes her against the wall. "You asked for it!" He protests. He'd be much more efficient at this if he weren't so drunk right now. He can't help but think that this would be a fun fight if they were actually sober.

She keeps screaming, flailing her arms about. "Fuck, Nat, stop!" Still tipsy, James sways a little bit, but lazily tries to keep her against the wall so she can stop whatever it is she's doing and stop scratching him to death. She tries to push him out of the way.

And suddenly, two drunk assassins in the middle of the night find themselves in a precarious position.

Their eyes lock for a minute. She finally stops scratching him or whatever the fuck that was supposed to be. His own gaze turns from annoyed to loving.

He slowly lets go of her. "Well," he says, and embraces her. He leans in for the kiss.

Thankfully, she doesn't resist. But their lips only briefly touch before he quickly pulls back, still worried that she'll retaliate.

"What kind of kiss was that?" she murmurs, "You know I don't bite." This from the woman who just punched him in the face, then tried to scratch him to death. Before he can get more thoughts in, she kisses him back.

This time it's a good long kiss.

He doesn't remember how long it's been since he felt Natasha pressed against him like this. He only resisted before because of all the shit and mindfuckery that had happened to him. But now he takes her in, the way her lips taste and the scent of her hair. God. He could just hold her here like this forever. Fuck Nick Fury. Fuck all those missions. Fuck the Soviets. Fuck everyone. This broad is with him. She's the only one who gets what he's been through. That's all that matters.

She doesn't remember how long it's been since she kissed this man, either. Asshole. She thought that he was dead for _years_, and to see him come back the way he did, not remembering that they'd ever met, much less kissed? And how awkward he acted after Banner restored his memories? He doesn't have the right to complain. This helpless feeling she'd had, this horrible feeling of wanting to help him but not being able to was _so not her._ It didn't fit a trained assassin. She's going to show him the hell she's been through. Before they finally give in to their desires, the last thing they remember her saying is:

"I'll give _you_ something to cry about, James Buchanan Barnes."


End file.
